The Rescue
by Cheyennes
Summary: This story was inspired by the events in 1x10, Desperate Measures, but the rescue proceeds a bit differently and we get an idea of what some of the team members were thinking. This is a one-shot but I have another story in the works that picks up back on Base.


I have really been enjoying The Brave this season. The last two episodes alone have spawned four new story ideas. Who doesn't love Jaz, right? Plus the interactions between the members of the team have been fascinating to watch. Here's hoping we will be lucky enough to get a second season and with it inspiration for many more stories.

The Rescue

Everything was happening too fast. Faster than she could deal with at the moment. Normally she excelled at quick adaption. After all it was sort of a a necessity for her job. But she was beyond exhausted. She hurt. Even her eyeballs hurt and, until today, she wouldn't have thought that was possible.

When her transport vehicle slammed to a halt, and she heard the sound of gunshots, she had pulled together the last bit of strength she had to strangle her captor. But now she had nothing left. She heard Top's familiar voice echoing through the vehicle. Telling her to prepare for the imminent explosion but all she could do was hang in her chains.

The next thing she knew there was movement all around her but everything was going dark. Until something jabbed her in the thigh and she felt like she had been electrocuted. Her hear was pounding. She was alert but confused. Overstimulated. They were pulling her up and out of the van and stuffing her into another vehicle. Top wrapped her in his arms as he continued giving orders. There was yelling and too much activity. She couldn't prevent the sob that escaped. She knew she needed to get her shit together but she couldn't even find it at the moment. He assured her that she was okay. Safe. But she didn't feel safe. She wanted to run away but she didn't have the strength. Intellectually she knew it was the medication messing with her head but that knowledge didn't make the feelings go away. She just wanted to close her eyes and find some peace. But it was nowhere to be found because now McG was shining a light in her eyes. Apparently she wasn't responding to him properly. When he started checking her limbs for breaks she had a little bit of a freak out. She didn't want anyone touching her and she curled up into Top regardless of the pain the movement caused. He ended up telling McG to wait until later. His reasoning was that in the hated white outfit it would be easy to see if she was bleeding out somewhere. All the other injuries could wait.

She started shivering uncontrollably and she willed it to stop because it just made her pain so much worse. Fortunately McG was apparently prepared for just such a circumstance. He pulled a survival blanket from his pack. Top grabbed one side of it and wrapped it around both of them since she was still sitting between his legs. There just wasn't enough room for her to sit anywhere else. None of the guys were particularly small and they were all wedged into the small space. She tried gathering her strength to pull herself up in a seated position but Top told her to rest. He obviously meant it as he tightened his hold around her and put gentle pressure on her head to keep her cheek against his chest.

She realized everyone was quiet now. McG was repacking his supplies, Preach was scanning outside, and Amir was out of sight. She could hear the road noise as their van traveled forward, could hear Top's slow and regular heartbeat under her ear, and felt herself rise and fall with his steady breathing. He was running his fingers soothingly through her hair brushing it behind her ear. Over time her shivers began to slow and exhaustion rolled over her like a heavy blanket. She tried to fight it, but now that the effects of the medication had worn off, she was even more exhausted than she had been. She didn't want to give in to the demands of her body. She needed to at least try to stay alert enough to help. But between one thought and the next she lost the battle against unconsciousness.

Rescuing Jaz was the best thing Dalton had done in a long time. As a team they were blessed with the opportunity to save lives on a regular basis. But Jaz was theirs. Someone they lived with and worked with. It created a bond that was difficult to describe. She was one of the strongest people he knew but she had clearly been tortured. When he had looked into her dark eyes in the van he could tell she was at her breaking point. The medication they had given her to keep her going had negative side effects of it's own. Unfortunately she had all of the risk factors to have a particularly bad reaction: dehydration, exhaustion, blood loss, and what appeared to be a head injury. All they could do now was keep her safe and as comfortable as possible while she rode out the effects.

He knew she had wounds that needed treatment. Her wrists and ankles were rubbed raw and the blood soaking into her prison garb showed evidence of other wounds too. He hoped he didn't regret holding McG's exam off. As usual he had to choose between two less than steller options. Ultimately, he had decided to go with the one he thought would cause her the least amount of stress. Because if McG had forced the issue he knew they would have been in for a fight. Yes, they could have restrained her, but it would have broken something in the team to have to do so. So for now she was resting limply against him while he was praying she didn't have any severe injuries. The rest of the team members were clearly taking their cues from him and his behavior. He was sure they wanted to review the next steps in the plan again, in fact he would normally be insisting on it, but he was trying to be quiet so Jaz could have quiet.

McG allowed the silence to reign until the sound of Jaz's deep regular breathing made him lean around to get a look at her face where it peeked over the blanket. Her eyes were closed and he could see her knuckles where she was clutching Top's shirt. She was so pale. He couldn't help but worry about unseen injuries but he understood Top's reluctance to allow him to force an exam. He reached out to gently rest his hand on her forehead and frowned at the building heat. They might be able to put things off a little longer but she definitely needed care.

He locked eyes with Top and quietly said, "I think the epinephrine wore off."

"I think you're right. She stopped shivering a while ago and hasn't moved around for the last few minutes. I know you're worried about her," he responded barely above a whisper.

"We're all worried about her. She's like our little sister. I just wanted to look her over and fix what was injured. Feel like I was actively doing something to help her. But you were right. She needed time and space more than she needed medical attention. But she will need that medical attention soon. I just didn't realize how overwhelmed she was until she settled right in with you under the blanket. Normally she would fight us tooth and nail if we ever suggested such a thing."

"She just needs a minute or two. She'll be back to herself before you know it. Giving you the usual crap."

"I never thought I would say this Top, and I'll deny it if you ever mention it, but I can't wait for her to do it."

Top couldn't prevent the small smile from escaping. He couldn't wait for their feisty Jaz to give them grief either. There was just something about her. Something that spoke to him and not in a way that the military brass would appreciate. He was pretty sure she felt the same draw to him. But they knew that neither of them were in a position to explore it.

He did expect that she would need him over the next few weeks. Not just him either, but all of the memebers of the team, for the various types of support they could provide her while she healed. He didn't expect that she would move on as if this had never happened. He knew she would want to, but he fully expected nightmares and other side effects, while she worked through what had happened. God knew she wasn't the only one that would likely be having nightmares in the near future.

His attention was pulled away from thoughts of Jaz as their van approached the off-the-grid airfield where Director Campbell had arranged for a small jet to pick them up. He had to switch gears and focus on successfully completing this rescue mission and allow the others on the team to care for her. Fortunately Jaz managed to sleep through the entire transfer to the plane even though she changed hands no less than three times. They gently settled her on the back bench seat of the plane still wrapped in the blanket.

McG took advantage of the lull in activity to start an IV. She needed the fluids, antibiotics, and pain medication that he had started. She might not have agreed with him placing it, but now that it was in place, she wouldn't make him remove the line. While Top was up front coordinating their exfil, he crouched beside Jaz on the floor watching over her until they reached cruising altitude. Once their flight was smooth he decided to see what he could do for her.

"Jaz?"

"Hmm."

"Jaz, can you open your eyes for me?"

She pried her eyes open for a few seconds but closed them again. She was so tired. McG laid his hand on the side of her face and realized it spanned the entire length.

"McG, what're you. . . what're you doing?"

"Trying to wake you up. Open your eyes for me. Yes, that's perfect. How are you feeling?"

"I never want the epinephrine again. It made me feel. . . weird."

"Sorry about that. You were fading on us and we needed you awake just in case the mission didn't go as smoothly as we hoped."

"Awake is overrated."

"All jokes aside, how are you really feeling?"

He watched her as she did a mental scan of her current condition.

"I have a lot of hurts. Some little and some big. But I'm alive and I'll keep on living. I promise."

"Can I look at some of your injuries? I'd like to take care of whatever I can in-flight."

She nodded in agreement so he started with her ankles and wrists gently cleaning and bandaging them. She showed him some of her puncture wounds and he gave them the same treatment. While he had been treating her he noted she was blinking a lot.

"How's the head?"

"My head hurts and my vision is a little blurry. I'm queasy too but I'm not sure if it has anything to do with my headache."

"I'm pretty sure you have a concussion. Not much I can do for it here but we'll get you scanned when we get home. In the meantime, rest is the best thing for you."

"I don't know if I can sleep again."

"Do you want some help?"

"No, no more drugs. I think I'll just lay here. How much longer?"

"We'll be back home in about three hours."

"Good. Thanks, McG."

"I'm glad you're back Jaz. We missed you."

She had to blink away the tears that pooled in her eyes as he gently stroked his hand through her hair. Home. She really did think of Base as home. She loved the work she did and the people she did it with. They were her family. Elijah had sacrified his life in the line of duty and earlier today she had expected the same fate. At the time she had wished she had a few more minutes to speak with each member of the team. Tell them how much she loved each of them and why. Tell Dalton the things that she felt but had never said aloud. Yes, they would have each received a letter upon her death, one she had labored over for quite a while, but it wasn't the same as having the opportunity to say those things in person.

She wasn't afraid to die. One couldn't work this job without realizing death was a very real job hazzard. Yet her team had come for her, they had saved her, and that was the thought she carried with her as she unexpectedly drifted off to sleep. Not the fear she had felt during the torture but the love shown by her team as they risked everything to bring her home.


End file.
